Callie ran off on her errands, and Hayley allowed Pamela to pull her up the stairs. "What are you doing?" Hayley asked.

"We are going to find you something to wear," Pamela replied, throwing open the doors to her wardrobe. She pulled out several gowns, surveying them critically before tossing them on the bed. "No, none of those will do," she said, reaching in again. "Ah ha!" she said, her face lighting up with triumph. She held a pale peach gown out to Hayley. "This will look lovely on you."

"But it will be much too short," Hayley protested, shaking her head. "Besides, that is one of the gowns I bought for you so you could look your best when Marshall comes calling."

"We can correct the length," Pamela said firmly. "We'll simply fashion a ruffle and sew it onto the bottom. Ruffles are very popular now."

"But what about Marshall?"

"He hates the color peach," Pamela said, but her blush told Hayley she wasn't being truthful. Tenderness flooded Hayley at her sister's attempt to please her.

Aunt Olivia and Callie appeared in the doorway, and before Hayley knew what was happening, her plain brown gown was gone, and the peach gown was lowered over her head. Pamela explained to Aunt Olivia about the tea with the countess and the lack of suitable attire.

The gown fit Hayley quite well, except it was a bit snug in the bodice and about six inches too short. Pamela and Aunt Olivia walked around Hayley, pulling material here, pinching material there, discussing options. When a course of action was finally decided upon, the dress was quickly removed and the three women set to work.

They worked the remainder of the afternoon, pausing only long enough to eat dinner. Nathan and Andrew were properly impressed with Hayley's invitation to tea. After dinner, the three women worked into the dark hours of the evening, chatting companionably, sewing and stitching. Callie stayed with them, along with Miss Josephine, until the child could no longer stay awake. She fell asleep on the settee in the drawing room, her arms wrapped around her doll.

"There! I think that about does it," Pamela said, standing up and stretching. She glanced at the mantel clock. It was nearly midnight.

"Try it on, Hayley dear," Aunt Olivia said.

They assisted Hayley, settling the gown over her chemise. Aunt Olivia had cleverly inserted a lace panel into the back of the dress, so the bodice fit perfectly. A cream ruffle surrounded the bottom of the gown, the material taken from an old gown of Pamela's that no longer fit. Aunt Olivia had added a cream-colored velvet bow just under the bustline.

"It looks beautiful," Pamela enthused, walking all around Hayley. "Absolutely perfect."

"The countess will be most impressed," Aunt Olivia predicted with a smile.

"Provided I don't do anything to disgrace myself," Hayley said.

"I'm sure she'll love you," Pamela said, helping her remove the gown. "Just as everyone does."

A wave of sadness washed over Hayley. No, not everyone.


* * *

An elegant black coach, its lacquered doors emblazoned with the Blackmoor family crest, pulled up to Albright Manor at precisely eleven o'clock the next morning. The entire Albright household, including Pierre, escorted Hayley to the door. She hugged them all, promising to relate every detail about her day when she arrived home later that evening.

A liveried footman helped Hayley into the carriage, and they were off, amid shouts from the children and much hand-waving.

Once her family was lost to her sight, Hayley settled back and surveyed the inside of the coach. She'd never been in such an elegant conveyance before. She ran her hands over the thick burgundy velvet squabs, her fingers sinking into the softness.

With a sigh she sat back, watching the countryside roll by. Once they reached London, she watched the scenery change as they left the rundown sections of the city and entered the more fashionable district. Hayley looked at all the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen strolling along, and the elegant shops and town houses. The carriage finally drew to a halt in front of an impressive brick town house. The footman opened the carriage door and assisted her down.

Walking slowly up the steps, her gaze took in the lovely structure, from its aged rose-colored brick to the small but lovely flower garden. Just before she reached the top step, one of the huge double doors opened.

"Good afternoon, Miss Albright," a dour-faced butler intoned, standing back so she could enter the foyer.

"Good afternoon," she replied with a smile. She stepped into the foyer and caught her breath. A multi-tiered crystal chandelier, the largest Hayley had ever seen, hung from the ceiling. A majestic staircase curved upward to the second floor. The foyer floor was dark green marble, and so shiny, Hayley could easily see her awestruck reflection in it.

"May I take your wrap?" The butler's voice jerked her attention back to him, and she surrendered her shawl.

"Thank you."

"The countess is in her private sitting room. Please, follow me."

Following the butler down a long corridor, Hayley gazed about with interest, trying not to gawk. Glossy mahogany tables ran along the hallway, each containing huge arrangements of fresh flowers. She admired the flowers, mentally naming each individual bloom as she past. Several gilded mirrors graced the pale ivory silk-covered walls. She surreptitiously checked her appearance and was satisfied that the coach ride had not disarranged her coiffure.

The butler stopped abruptly in front of a door, and Hayley nearly plowed into his back, so intent was she on looking about. Luckily she caught herself just in time.

He opened the door and indicated with a solemn nod of his head that she should enter the room.

A warm fire crackled in the grate, lending a cozy air. The room was bright and cheery, sunlight spilling through the tall Palladian windows. Several oil paintings depicting pastoral scenes graced the pale green silk walls. Two chintz wing chairs flanked the sofa, and a cherry escritoire sat in the corner. Fresh flowers filled crystal vases, their sweet fragrance scenting the air. Hayley felt as if she were in an enchanted secret garden.

"Miss Albright," said a soft voice behind her. "Thank you so much for accepting my invitation, especially on such short notice."

Hayley turned, prepared to greet her hostess, but her first glimpse of the countess stunned her. She wasn't sure what she'd expected the Countess of Blackmoor to look like, but she certainly hadn't envisioned the lovely young woman walking toward her with a friendly smile wreathing her beautiful face.

The countess extended her hand. "How do you do, Miss Albright?"

Hayley managed to remember her manners and dropped into an awkward curtsy. She then rose and took the countess's hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Blackmoor. And it is I who should thank you for your kind invitation."

"Please come in and sit down," the countess invited, leading the way to the sofa. "I thought we might sit and chat for a few minutes before tea is served."

"This is a lovely room," Hayley remarked once they were seated.

"Thank you. It is my favorite. No matter how frantic things become, I can escape in here and find peace." The countess leaned forward and studied Hayley with unconcealed interest.

"I must admit, Miss Albright, you are not at all what I expected," she said. Hayley's dismay must have shown because the countess quickly added, "Oh! Please, do not misunderstand me. I am most surprised-most pleasantly surprised, I assure you." She reached out and briefly squeezed Hayley's hand.

Hayley whooshed out a sigh of relief. She returned the countess's friendly smile and confided, "In that case, I must admit that you are not at all what I expected either."

"Indeed? What were you expecting?" the countess asked, her face filled with lively interest.

"Honestly?"

"Certainly."

"Well, I pictured you attired in some sort of formidable dark gown, and a pince-nez perched on your nose. Several strands of pearls, a severe gray-haired chignon, and tending toward obesity. I imagined you'd sport a limp, and be very, very old," Hayley concluded, a sheepish grin tugging at her lips.

The countess burst out laughing. "Good heavens! And you actually agreed to come to tea?"

"In truth, I considered turning down your invitation, but my younger sisters wouldn't allow me to refuse." Hayley admitted, relaxing in the countess's presence. In spite of her hostess's noble lineage, she was friendly and warm, and Hayley liked her immediately. "They're pea green with envy I'm having tea with a countess. My younger sister, Callie, lives for tea parties. She's at home right now, pacing the floor, anxiously awaiting my return so I can tell her how a countess pours tea."

"How old is Callie?"

"She's six. She'll be seven in two weeks."

"How wonderful." The countess rang for the tea cart. "Please continue. I'm anxious to hear all about you and your family." She listened intently while Hayley gave a brief sketch of all the Albrights, including Grimsley, Winston, and Pierre. Just as she finished, the tea arrived.

"And what of your parents?" the countess asked, pouring out two cups.

"They are both deceased."

"How terribly sad for you. Who takes care of your brothers and sisters? Your aunt?"

A small laugh escaped Hayley. "No, Aunt Olivia is a dear lady, but I fear she's unable to take care of such a high-spirited bunch."

"You have a governess, then?"

"No. Just me. And, of course, Pamela."

The countess's teacup froze halfway to her lips. "Do you mean to say you're in charge of the entire household?"